by April Lust
“No way, Torch. I can’t do that. This is my sister we’re talking about. I can’t just let it go, and I can’t just let you deal with it. I have to do something. I have to make Danny Fletch pay, because I know in my heart that he did something really bad, really evil to her. So he has to pay for it. I can’t not do anything.”
“I hear you, Erin, but I need you to hear me. This is not just about your sister. There is somethin’ more goin’ on here, and I need to handle it. I need you to let me do that. I need you to trust me on this. I need you to give me that. Step down, Erin. And I’m not askin’. I’m tellin’.”
“No fucking way, Torch.” I shook my head.
He shook his head. “You and your fucking mouth, Erin.” His eyes softened, though, and he said it as though my swearing had brightened the moment, lifted him out of the darkness into which we had been plummeting.
And he kissed me. Not very gently, but not roughly, either. Just smoothly, like it was the natural formation of us and he was just laying the parts back together. Our tongues intertwined and our breaths melded, and my body, of its own accord, turned into his for most contact.
His hands roamed my back until they found their happy place on my ass cheeks, which he gripped firmly, squeezing and molding, until I was dripping with want. I shifted to straddle him on the couch, and soon enough I was perched on top of his hard cock, hidden and blunted through his jeans. I could feel his desire, and his mouth grew possessive of mine, the kiss rougher and more forceful.
He sucked hard on my lower lip, scraping it as he backed away from my face to strip my top over my head, and he found me braless beneath it. He suddenly surged forward, tumbling me on my back while his body covered mine. My head ended up near the armrest, cocooned into the padding. His large hands cupped my breasts, and he lowered his mouth to one nipple, licking its firm bud and then sucking it into his mouth, nipping and teething it variably. I struggled for breath. The sensations jetted directly down to my core center, and I could feel my juices flowing freely. I threw my head back and lifted my hips in a physical demand for attention southward. He was not in a mood to comply. He let out a deep short chuckle and said, “Babe.” Like that even meant anything.
But he just kept on going with his ministrations to my breasts and nipples, switching his attention between them, his hands molding their shape, pushing them together, scratching the sensitive skin with the new growth of his facial hair, rubbing and tonguing and sucking and squeezing and nipping. I was starting to lose my mind from the pleasure, but it wasn’t enough. I needed more.
I gripped his tousled, silky dark hair in my hands and he groaned. I forced myself to let go. My hands rolled down his back, and I dug my fingers into his muscles and dragged them upward again to his shoulder blades, letting him feel how mad he was driving me. “Torch, more.” I was having difficulty pulling words.
Finally, he pulled back and shifted his legs and feet to solid ground. In one swift move, he leaned in to gather me into his arms and stood up. “Wrap your legs around me, baby.”
What’s a girl to do? I did as told.
He made short work of the journey to my bedroom, and suddenly we were bouncing together on my bed, our legs draped over the side. Our mouths reconnected, and sucking on his tongue became the most important thing for some moments. It was delicious. But he kept slipping it around my mouth, playing with me. I just chased after him, loving his taste and his scent and his muscular strength surrounding me.
I tugged on the kutte still hugging his shoulders. He must have been in an obliging mood, because he quickly slipped free of it and pulled his T-shirt off over the back of his head, as well. Then we were skin to skin, and it was glorious. I loved the heat of him, the soft tickle of his chest hairs against my breasts and hard nipples, the power of his arms and torso on top of mine. I buried my nose in his neck, inhaling his scent, licking and sucking the soft throb of his pulse point.
He groaned and moved his hands to my waist, quickly slipping his fingers through the elasticity of my skirt’s waistband, pulling it down with the strings of my panties, stripping me bare in one go. His hands returned up the outsides of my legs. He kissed and licked his way along my inner thighs, from one knee to my pelvis, then repeated the process on the other side, teasing and nipping and licking and kissing his way. Then he slid two fingers into my wet lower lips, spreading my juices over them and circling my risen clit. Finally, he wrapped his arms around my thighs and buried his face in my open hot center. His mouth landed directly over my clit, and his tongue swept from below before circling it and then—god!—sucking on it. I sucked in air, my head thrown back, and I think I mewled.
He didn’t stop. He was lapping at me, circling and sucking and sipping and nipping. I lost track of the plot; I was all sensation. My hips must have been bucking, because I heard him say, “Stop it. Don’t move, Erin.”
Jarred from the moment and confused about what was happening, I lifted my head to find his eyes hard on my face. His were dilated, fierce, his breath coming in deep pulls. He was all angles and flush with pumping blood. When he caught my lost look, he growled, “No movement, baby. Just feel.”
And his face returned to my center, and his mouth to his work. He had moved his arms so his hands were on top of my inner thighs, holding them down to the sides, pressing them into the bed so I was pinned and there was nowhere for me to go. Sensation overtook me again, the feel of that tongue, those lips and teeth, the licking, the circling, the thrusting, the sucking. God, the sucking.
I could feel my body tension and awareness rise exponentially even as it cut out all other aspects of my surroundings. My every nerve-ending was coiled in heat and desire and anticipatory contraction. My arms were reaching over my head, hands grasping at the sheets, the pillows, anything, nothing. My head was nearly tipped back onto my crown, and I gasped for each breath. And in a moment, or five, or twenty, or a hundred, the world exploded. My body shook, my every sensation only pleasure. I was a flood of euphoria: drowning, filling, cascading, rising, falling, floating, drifting, shivering, and spreading. My entire being was bliss. It was like nothing—nothing—I’d ever felt before. It took me out of this world.
When I finally became aware of Torch again, he was watching me, still from his position halfway down my body. His face was serious, his eyes still dark with desire but also shining with satisfaction. “Good, baby. Let’s get you there again.” I’d never come like that before. I didn’t think I could again. But if he wanted to try, I was certainly not going to stop him.
But this time, I wanted him with me. That was too good not to share.
“Torch, let me touch you.”
The left side of his mouth tipped up in a darling half smile. “Yeah, Erin. You can touch me.” He really was in an accommodating mood.
And he stood up, moved his hands to his belt to unbuckle it, and then ripped open the fly. I crawled backward on the bed, centering myself with my head near the pillows, and lay there waiting while he shucked his boots and socks, and then his jeans and boxers. He tossed a foil packet on the bed that he must have snagged from a pocket and stood still a moment, looking at me, letting me look at him.
He was so beautiful: so tall, with such smooth skin, that gorgeous athletic build covered in defined but not overwhelming musculature, the slight imperfections of a rugged masculine face dominated by his stunning green eyes and their ridiculously long dark lashes, the soft mop of silky black hair, the light coverage of it on his chest, his six-pack abs, the V at his hips, and the happy trail leading directly down to his amazingly long, thick, hard cock. He truly was a work of art. I was appreciative.
I’d been looking my fill for several moments before I realized he was full-on smiling at me, watching my eyes now. I had thought he was checking me out like I had been checking him out, but then I realized he’d just been watching me check him out. I blushed and bit down on my lower lip.
His grin expanded even more. “Hey, baby, I’m glad you like me. But you said y
ou wanted to touch me, so I’m just waiting for you. Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to come here.”
Obligingly he climbed up on the bed and spread himself on his side, raised up on an elbow for leverage. His upper leg shifted my legs apart and then rested between them. His available hand smoothed my chest and shoulder blade, and he slowly drifted it down to direct my arm toward his body. I was thinking exactly along those same lines, and I eagerly returned my gaze to join my hand in a mutual focus on his big, hard, impressively upright cock. Damn, he was big. Long, and thick, and smooth, and pretty. Very few cocks are pretty, I think. But his was actually pretty, in a very seriously masculine way. It perfectly matched the largeness and perfection of the rest of him. I was fascinated.
I grasped him firmly at the base and found my fingers didn’t quite close around him, so I used my other hand to assist. With both hands encircling him, I drew up along the length, squeezing him and watching as he seemed to throb and grow with excitement at the pressure and attention.
I glanced up at his eyes to check his reaction. He was looking down at his cock in my hands, and his face looked all angles and desire.
There was a drop of precum at the tip, and I wanted to taste it, and I wanted his head in my mouth. I wanted to suck on him. I scooched myself down the bed and flipped myself between his legs as he rolled to his back and propped his head up on a pillow for a better angle to watch. I smiled and dipped my head to the tip of him, then licked the precum off the slit, dragging my tongue across it exaggeratedly.
He groaned, and when the tip of my tongue had reached its end I let my lips rest on him, then opened them wide and sucked the entire head into my mouth at once, spreading that drop around inside, and I swallowed.
As I moved my hands back down his shaft and then pulled them back up with firm pressure, I circled my tongue around him, then sucked some more, before drawing myself back, my lips firmly rolling over the sides of the head until he popped out.
“Do that again.”
I complied, happily. Only this time, I didn’t stop.
There was no way I could hope to fit all of him in my mouth, but I was determined to find out how much of it I could, and I proceeded to suck and encircle and rub and pull and rise and fall for the next several minutes.
He had grabbed a firm hold of my hair at the back of my neck and was shifting his hips up and down to match my movements over him, and he was watching me the whole time, and finally he found what he wanted, as his careful thrusts brought him to the very back of my throat.
I kept sucking, willing my gag reflex to relax. My senses caught up in his taste, his beauty, his passion, his need. I was even more wet myself, completely turned on and in tune with him.
He kept repeating, “You’re so beautiful. Beautiful. You’re beautiful. Yes, baby, Erin, you’re so beautiful. Yes. Yes, yes, oh baby, oh yes. Yes.”
I felt beautiful. I continued pulling on him, pushing on him, licking, encircling, sucking, and sucking more. Opening to him, rocking on him, feeling his need and feeding from it.
His pace picked up, his need driving more, his hand gripping my hair urging me to speed up and keep sucking him down. I sucked harder, faster. I felt him tense and contract and push faster and thrust harder, and suddenly he came with an explosion of breath and my mouth filled with his cum.
I swallowed it down, and it kept coming and I kept swallowing, now easing up on all pressure, just swallowing until I had got it all down. His body relaxed and his grip on me eased, and his hand brushed my cheek and my hair in a soft caress.
And I looked up at his face when I released my mouth from the head of his cock, and he lazily smiled and said, “You are so beautiful.”
I brushed one more soft kiss to the tip of his cock, and he pulled me up into his arms. I lay on top of him for many moments as he drifted and finally came back to himself.
My nose was buried under his chin, and our bodies were a bit sticky with sweat, but we were in no rush to move things along. We had all night. We were finally in a bed. And things were good. Things were really, really good.
We drifted for a long while. I had settled on my side, tucked into his side. He had one arm around my back, the other lightly roaming and caressing me, soothingly and teasingly all at once, and I knew we were not done. Eventually he slowed down and lifted his hand to my face, tipping my chin so he could catch my eyes with his own.
“Erin, I need us to be really clear and on the same page about what we were talkin’ about earlier. I know you think you gotta take care of shit with Danny Fletch. But I’m tellin’ you, I need you to step down. I get that you want to be involved with takin’ him down. I see you got reason, and you deserve to have a piece of him. But this is seriously bigger than that—I haven’t figured it all out. But until I do, you have to promise me you’ll drop your plan, whatever it is, and lay low while I sort it. You got me? You with me on this? You gonna step down?”
I held his gaze for a long minute, reading his eyes, which were holding mine openly, deeply, seriously. I said the only thing that made sense. “Okay, Torch. I’ll step down.”
He practically squeezed the life out of me then, as he tucked his face into my neck and pulled me back on top of him. I squealed a little to get him to ease up. He laughed, and did.
“Good, babe. That’s the right choice.” He pulled back from me, and I rested my forearms above his shoulders on the bed so I could look into his face. “I promise you, Erin, I’ll let you know when somethin’ is gonna go down, and I’ll keep you informed when it’s safe for you to be. But I’m keeping you safe, first and foremost. You gotta understand, I got a stake in this, too. So I won’t drop it. It’s priority for me, too. It will be sorted, and Danny Fletch will go down. But you are not doin’ this alone anymore, and you are not in charge of the action. Okay? I am. We clear?”
“Yeah, we’re clear, Torch. But I don’t fully get it. What’s your stake in it? I mean, outside of me, what’s going on that you gotta figure out, that I don’t know?”
“Baby, I don’t wanna talk about that, not right now, not tonight. I’ll tell you sometime, but for tonight it’s been enough, yeah? Can we give it a rest and just be, now?”
“Yeah, Torch, we can do that. We can give it a rest. No more tonight.” And I offered him a little sad smile.
Then he kissed me, softly and sweetly, and his tongue slipped between my lips and met my own, and they danced together lazily and briefly. And soon after, we drifted easily into sleep.
Chapter 8
Torch
My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and I reached down to read the text.
Pres:My office, compound. 15 min.
It wasn’t a group text. Well, this would be interesting.
I’d been hanging out in the main room at Centerfold, watching over Erin, doing the normal thing. If one could call serving time at Centerfold normal. But at least it allowed me the obvious benefit of being able to keep an eye on my woman, making sure she was good, that nobody was hassling her.
Since she was busy talking to some guy I’d seen around a few times, I figured she was okay with him, doing her job, safe enough. Still, it never hurt to have backup. I headed over to Teeth, who was at the bar, chatting up the hot bartender.
“Yo, Teeth, I gotta take off for a few. Watch out for my woman, yeah?”
Teeth looked out to locate Erin, then glanced back at me with a nod. “Sure thing.”
“Thanks, man.” And with a final look at Erin, who was not taking note, I took off.
I hadn’t talked to Slim one-on-one in many weeks. Time was, we were buddies. We’d hung around the compound together a lot over the last six years, since I joined the Damned Angels. Sure, he was of the older generation, had been in the MC for decades. Best friend to our old Pres, Dane, who had passed along from a heart attack several months ago. Dane was a great man, a fine president. He always did right by us. I figured he’d be turning in his grave if he knew how far we’d sunk down the
tubes since his passing.
Slim had seemed the natural choice to take on the lead role after Dane died. Shit-poor reality was biting us all in the ass.
After that night with Erin, when she told me all about her sister and the porno lot, I knew there was something really dark going down with Slim. From her description of the two MC guys on the lot, it was obvious she had seen Franco and Slim there; they were those two guys she had described. And from her description of the time, the weekend of the big snow in late February, I also knew that was one of the last times anyone had seen Franco alive.
So if both her sister and Franco Perez died that weekend, it only made sense to presume their deaths were somehow linked. There was a tie there, but I didn’t have enough information to figure it out yet.
